


Nightly Letters

by SlipOfAScribe



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mention of Letter Days, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlipOfAScribe/pseuds/SlipOfAScribe
Summary: Newton had never stopped writing letters to Hermann, he'd just stopped sending them. And for some reason, he'd kept them. Hermann hated him, so it wasn't like he was ever going to give them to the man, no actual reason to keep them. Right?
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Nightly Letters

_ Your mere existence brings me so much joy. And sometimes I am very sorry about that. Because I know I express it rather loudly, and my noise makes you uncomfortable. _

_ I wonder, often, if I am the only one still writing letters. Do you know that I haven’t stopped? They’ve gotten a lot more eloquent since our time sharing them, and I suspect that you’ve had a hand in that. I ache to see your words on paper again, but since I know that will never happen, I try to emulate you in my own letters. _

_ But fuck, Herms, you really don’t know how much unadulterated joy you make me feel. I can’t sit still when you’re around, even worse than when I’m alone. The music I play is to ground me, keep me from being so distracted by your fucking presence that I lose all sense of myself. _

_ If I didn’t argue with you, I’d probably kiss you. And that would not be okay. _

_ I’m sorry for messing things up. _

Newt ripped the letter from the notebook and stuffed it into the bottom drawer of his desk with all the others. This was his nightly habit when he couldn’t sleep. Write another fucking letter to someone who would never read it. Mostly because Newt would never give them to Hermann. Sometimes Newt felt like an idiot, but he wasn’t  _ that _ socially inept that he would try something as crazy as giving Hermann Gottlieb a letter he absolutely didn’t want, full of feelings he would never reciprocate. 

No, Newt was stupid enough to write empty letters never read, pine from a distance, and slowly work his way to crazier and crazier thoughts about the kaiju. The newest thought being, if jaeger pilots could do that mind-meld shit, why couldn’t he do it with a kaiju? Get into the way they thought and give the pilots a better chance at survival.

They were losing too many people too quickly. Newt could stop that if he just stepped it up a little. And maybe some mind-melding with a giant monster brain would knock some of Newt’s brain back to sanity. Maybe he’d knock those dumb feelings for Hermann loose and finally get over his manic crush.

Then again, maybe he’d die. He knew the effort it took the pilots to go into the drift, he’d seen Mako and Raleigh lose themselves and nearly blow the place to pieces. If things went wrong with a kaiju, it could be so much worse. But sacrifices, man. Fortune favors the bold, right?

Rubbing his eyes under his glasses, nearly knocking them off his face completely, Newt yawned and then sought his clock. Two a.m. He really needed to get some sleep. According to Hermann’s calculations, a kaiju was expected in two days. Hermann’s predictions were  _ never _ wrong, no matter how much Newt ribbed him over his work. The man was fucking brilliant. That meant he and Newt would have a lot of preparation to do before the attack. Always something to check, to improve, to suggest. Anything to give the pilots a better chance.

Newt stripped down to boxers and climbed into bed. Sleep did not take him, though. Not right away. Newt tossed and turned, catching snippets of darkness every now and again until the noise of life outside of his room became too much. He rolled over, squinting blearily without his glasses to make the numbers on the clock form some semblance of sense. 

Eight. Good enough. 

Newt threw off his blankets, grabbed his towel and showercaddy, then padded down the hall in flip-flops. Hopefully a cold shower would wake him up enough to function for the day.

It certainly helped, but Newt still dragged, probably much to the delight of dear  _ Doctor Gottlieb _ . He always preferred when Newton was quieter. Shuffling his feet just to make  _ some _ noise, Newt collapsed into his chair. “Morning, Herms.” He saw the man tense, hand stopping its work on the chalkboard.

“Doctor Geiszler.” That same uppity tone that just sunk into Newt’s belly and warmed him from the inside out. “I trust you had a good morning since you’re rather late.”

Newt scoffed. “Not really. Haven’t even had coffee yet.” He spun his chair around a few times and caught his hands on the desk to stop the movement. “Want something? I’m going to the mess hall.”

“Now? You just got here!”

“Yeah, but coffee.” Newt got to his feet and headed for the door again. Even the  _ thought _ of coffee was lifting his spirits and he managed to actually pick his feet up. “Tea? A scone? Tea and a scone?”

“I hardly think they’ll have a proper scone here.” Hermann went back to writing his equations, reworking the same line over and over, clearly stuck on something. “Tea would be pleasant.”

There was just a moment of hesitation where Newt thought he might tack on a “thank you” but it never came. “Sure,” Newt said and left their workspace. 

As he walked through the halls, Newt said hi to nearly everyone who passed. While Hermann had a hard time socializing, Newt maybe talked  _ too  _ much. And with all that talking, he still hadn’t figured out how to fix things with Hermann. The guy just really hated him. And it was his fault, wasn’t it? He knew from the letters how awkward Hermann was, but he didn’t fully prepare for that when he’d met him the first time. He should have been better about it. He should have-- it didn’t matter. What happened happened and things were how they were.

Newton got the coffee and tea and headed back, so lost in thoughts this time that he didn’t notice most of the hellos he got from others. His eyes were locked on the floor in front of himself, one step after the other. He got back to his lab where Herman was and found himself almost surprised to be there already.

Clearing his throat and bringing his head back to the present, he waltzed over to Hermann’s desk and sat his ass on it. He knew Hermann hated that. Then he held up the paper cup of tea. “Whatcha stuck on there, Herms? Need some help?” He started light with the teasing, wanting to work Hermann over slowly today. He wanted to watch the man grow in his emotions, sliding clearly from one to the next instead of exploding through too many at once.

Hermann turned and as soon as his eyes landed on Newt sitting on his desk, his chest puffed up and his thin lips pressed tightly together. Annoyance. It took him to his full height, hand gripping the cane tightly. “Get. Off. My desk!” He stamped his cane at his last word in emphasis.

Newt chuckled and did. He still held the cup of tea out toward Hermann, but he didn’t take any step closer to him. Instead, he watched as Hermann took a steadying breath and then walked over to retrieve the tea himself. Once it was safely in his hands, Hermann frowned.

“May I please have my space back?” Annoyance that could grow to fluster if Newt played his cards right.

For a moment, Newt watched him from beneath his lashes, lips between his teeth as he decided what the next step would be to keep him slowly boiling, not exploding. He took a few precise steps back and crossed the line to his space. Well, nearly. The toes of his combat boots were  _ just _ peeking over the bright yellow line. His eyes flicked up to Hermann’s again whose blush announced his rising tension. 

Hermann’s body seemed to shake, but instead of verbally fighting back, he just spun around with his cane and sipped at his tea while his back was to Newton. He crossed the room over to his board again, and stood staring at it, pointedly ignoring Newt’s presence.

Newt grinned, a feeling of success running through him and invigorating his drive to start his work. He finally stepped off the line and went over to his desk. Since he didn’t have much in the way of specimens to work with right now, he decided to go over his notes from the last attack. Perhaps there was something in there that might predict what sort of creature would enter their world this time around.

He pulled out a couple of files, flipped their covers open, and then blindly reached for his music. As soon as his fingers made sense of their groping, loud music blasted to life in the shared workspace.

“Doctor Geiszler!” Somehow, Hermann’s voice managed to sound over the pounding beats. “For the love of--could we go just  _ one _ day.  _ One single _ day without that blasted noise! I don’t know how I am expected to work in this-this-this  _ environment _ .”

Newton looked over at the man and watched Hermann’s fingers snap a piece of chalk in half. Newt had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “What?” he asked loudly, putting a hand on the volume dial. When Hermann opened his mouth to yell again, Newt turned the volume down. 

Hermann’s voice yelled out loudly through the space, and he jumped at the surprise of it. Newton lost it at that point, devolving into laughter.

“You’re such a child, Newton.” Hermann had switched to first names. This meant the battle of wits was about to properly commence.

“A child with multiple PhDs, though, so a smart child,” Newt tossed back.

“Another kaiju will be coming through in two days—”

“If you’re right about the calculation—”

“I am correct! I am always correct—” Hermann’s face reddened more, his body tightening as he boiled even more.

“Well, not that one time when—”

“Newton Geiszler, if you dare bring up—”

Newton threw his hands up in the air and the movement pushed his chair back, the wheels scraping loudly on the metal floor. “What, Herms? Bring up letter—”

Hermann stamped his cane down on the ground and went quiet. He stared at Newton with a new look, the tense of his eyebrows deeper, the flattening of his lips drawn so flat they held little feeling. But it was his eyes. Such a pain in his brown eyes that they looked black, as if his pupil had eaten away at everything. Newt found that it made his heart clench painfully. Grimacing, he tightened his hands into fists as he willed that look to change.

“Don’t,” Hermann whispered.

“Her-”

“Newt, please don’t.” His voice wasn’t any louder, but it cut Newton’s words off immediately. Hermann dropped the broken chalk still in his hand onto the desk next to his abandoned tea and walked out of the room.

With the music turned down and the yelling stopped, the rhythmic step-tap of his feet and his cane echoed through the space with a hollow sort of bitterness. It echoed in Newt’s head alongside his own voice,  _ he hates you, he hates you, he hates. _

Newton had fucked up again. Big surprise.

_ Dear Doctor Gottlieb, _

_ I know I messed up again. I thought I could get us to that fun, teasing spot, watch you coil and spring forth with renewed brilliance at your chalkboard and break through whatever was holding you back today. Clearly, I was wrong.  _

_ I’ve never seen that look you gave me today. I don’t want to ever see it again, but I don’t know what caused it. What did I do differently? Maybe I should just try being, like, nice or something. But then you might look at me a whole other way and get my feelings all twisted again, and I’d confess my undying love for you and wouldn’t  _ _ that _ _ be stupid? _

_ Anyway, I’m sorry. _

_ Did I tell you my new thought? The kaiju brains, Herms. If the jaeger can go into drift with one another, why can’t we do that with a kaiju brain? I know, it’s risky, it’s crazy, who would even volunteer for that? Well, I would. If we need that information, which we do because we see how many people we’re losing, how much money and support we’re losing, well, I could do it. Who better, right? The kaiju fanboy, covered in tattoos of them. I’m the perfect choice. _

_ If something went wrong and I got hurt, would you care? _

Newt tore this letter out a little more forcefully than intended and it ripped nearly in half. It didn’t matter. He never looked at his letters again, just shoved them in the drawer and tried desperately to forget about this ridiculous habit.

That night, Newt slept horribly again.

The kaiju attack came just when Hermann was starting to question his math, and the station went into Work Mode. Newt couldn’t help the nervous pacing, the jerky movements, as he tried to prepare his lab and find a way to be helpful. He watched the feeds as the jaeger pilots started to head out. It was always frustrating, sitting back and watching while the pilots fought. Not that Newt could go out and fight with them, but there was just this  _ drive _ to do something. 

Hermann stood next to Newt now, both of his hands on his cane in front of him. His eyes were latched on the screen, thin lips pursed tightly together. Newt was watching Hermann, watching the strain and concentration. He wondered if Hermann felt how he did, if the man who was so put together and proper felt this overwhelming helplessness during the battles.

“I don’t understand why you would want to see one of these beasts up close, Doctor Geiszler.” Hermann turned to look at Newt.

That look from the other day was gone, but the worry was clear. Well, it was currently drawn eyebrows and a frown of question. But it wasn’t the flat, absolutely wrecked look that Newton almost died from, so this was better. “They’re the biggest scientific phenomenon of our time, Herms. How could I  _ not _ want to get close to it?”

Hermann shook his head and took a seat to keep watching.

Newt took up pacing around the laboratory, flipping his files open to re-read things he’d already memorized. He pulled out charts and scans and tapped on glass jars that held the remains of already-dead kaiju. He did not turn on any music. If music was playing, they wouldn’t be able to hear the updates as easily, and neither of them wanted to miss a moment of the battle. 

Once the kaiju and jaeger finally engaged, the battle was rather quick. No casualties today. The entire dome sighed a breath of relief, and the pilots came home. Newt turned a smile to Hermann; since no one had died, Newt would be getting his pieces of kaiju and he could be extremely happy about it all. 

Hermann was relieved. It could be seen in the relaxed slope of his shoulders, but when he caught eyes with Newt, he quickly turned away and waved a dismissive hand. “No, do not start in. I have work to do!” He went back to his side of the lab and nearly buried himself in chalk-dust with how quickly he was erasing equations from the chalkboard.

Newt snorted and reached for the music again. He made sure the volume wasn’t  _ too _ loud, but he turned it on and started the prep on his tables. As hasty as Newt was in his excitement, he still knew to be careful with handling things. Particularly with Hermann sharing his space. While Newt’s own survival instincts were possibly lacking, the thought of anything happening to Hermann pushed him toward caution.

_ Dear Herms, _

_ It’s four a.m. and I can’t get back to sleep. The dreams were horrible. I kept seeing your face, looking up from some street I didn’t know, covered in blood and kaiju blue. It was my fault, somehow. I don’t know how but it was. There was just this feeling of guilt, that you were there dying because I made a misstep somewhere. Do you know what I would do if you died because of me? _

_ I’ve never regretted my tattoos. I’ve never felt truly upset at the jibes about me being a kaiju fanboy. I get it, my love for manga and movie monsters built a thick skin from the teasing I got in regards to that. This was just the same thing. _

_ But after seeing you lying there, dying, it felt odd to wake up and see the creatures that ‘killed’ you laid out on my skin. I’d rather have you laid out on my skin. Do you know how fucking attractive you are? Okay, I’m distracting myself from the real feelings because thinking of you that way is so much better than the dreams. _

_ Or the reality. I can’t get that stupid look out of my head. What did I do differently? Are you just at the point of truly and completely hating me now? I guess it doesn’t really matter one way or another because you’ll never read this. _

_ Why the hell am I still writing these? _

_ Why am I keeping them? _

Newt managed to drift with a kaiju. He was collapsed on the ground at the end of a seizure, he was pretty sure, blood dripping from his nose as he felt the worst headache of his life coming on. He was still in mid-flashes of kaiju being built, actually designed by some smaller-than-kaiju but bigger-than-humans creatures. Trying to make sense of it through the seizure that had taken hold.

And suddenly, there were arms around him. Hands on his face, brushing his hair back and pulling the Pons from his head. Newt was sure there was someone talking to him, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. 

As the images faded, the arms coalesced into reality. Hermann was there, cradling him and trying to get him to talk. Hermann, with such a look of worry on his face, worry for Newt. Amidst all the swirling thoughts, the panic, the realizations, one thing stuck in Newt’s mind.

He was going to give Hermann the letters. All of them.

The next too many hours were a rush of panic and planning. Days passed as the Dome perfected its plan. And one night, when Newt couldn’t stand it anymore and everyone was just  _ waiting _ , he went to Hermann’s door.

He held in his hands every letter he’d written since they’d stopped sending them to each other. Okay, he held a box with every letter in it. So many letters that Newt suddenly realized this was a bad idea. There was so much. Hermann didn’t like him, and  _ now _ he was going to think he was an absolute madman. But he’d knocked already. It was too late to turn back—

The door opened and Hermann stood there in the most pretentious-looking pajamas Newt had ever seen outside of movies. It was like the guy had rolled out of the fifties, and Newt couldn’t stop staring. How had he never seen Hermann like this before? He looked beautiful.

“Are you going to stand there gawking all night, Dr. Geiszler, or are you going to explain why you’re standing at my door with a box in your arms?” Hermann raised an eyebrow at him, and that just set all the angles of his face so perfectly.

Fuck, he was hot.

“I uh, well. These are yours.” Newton should have been careful about it, but instead, he just shoved the box toward Hermann who took it with an ‘oomf’ and a slight stagger backward.

“What?” Hermann moved further into his room to set the box on his bed.

Newton thought about running. He thought about staying and watching, coming into the room and explaining himself. He froze. He stood completely frozen in the hallway as he watched Hermann reach down and pick up the first letter. He watched as the man’s eyes scanned the handwritten words, frown deepening, and then dropped it onto the bed to pick up another. A pile started growing, letters strewn half-open across the neatly made blankets.

It had to have been such a long time, Newt standing there watching Hermann, but neither of them spoke while Hermann read through many of the letters. Newt still felt like his legs had locked and would not let him go.

Finally, Hermann turned his face to Newt. “You...kept writing to me?”

Newt gave a short nod.

“Some of these are deeply personal, Newton.” A blush crept over Hermann’s face. “This one…” he flapped a letter. “Is rather sexual. Did you...did you mean for me to see these?”

Newt swallowed thickly. “Yes. Well, no, I wasn’t planning on it but then I just had to because who knows what’s going to happen. If we’ll actually win this or you’ll be right and everything will go to hell and we’ll be dead so none of this will even matter, but before it does I just needed you...to...know.”

“Newton.” Hermann’s voice was cast low, deep. “Come here.”

Something in that voice compelled him forward, and Newton stepped inside of Hermann’s room.

“Shut the door.”

He did. And he walked over to the point on the floor where Hermann was still pointing a finger. He wanted to ask something, anything, but the paralyzing fear that had stuck his legs had now taken hold of his throat. This was unknown territory, something Newt had no idea how to navigate, because he didn’t know what  _ it _ was. All his bluster and confidence fell away as Hermann looked at him with those eyes.

“Newton, do you like me?”

A short nod.

“Then I suppose you should see something.” Hermann took a few steps to his desk and opened a drawer. From inside he pulled out a very neatly folded stack of letters. They were pristine, unlike the mess that Newt had handed him. “I did not stop writing to you, either.” He held out the stack for Newt to take.

Newton’s eyes went wide as he took the stack of letters, hands shaking. “You didn’t!?” He had not expected that. He had been fully convinced that Hermann Gottlieb hated him and wouldn’t waste a second thinking about Newt outside of work. But here sat evidence to the contrary. Unless...was this going to be all of the hate that Newton knew he felt for him? His heart hammered as his shaky fingers went to the top of one of the letters.

He flipped it open and found it dated yesterday. Dated. Opened with a polite,  _ Doctor Geiszler _ and ended with  _ Sincere regards, Hermann Gottlieb _ . Every single one written the same way, except that what was inside was far from polite and buttoned-up. The letters were just as emotional and questioning as any of Newt’s. Well, they weren’t as overtly  _ sexual _ , but there was a romance behind a lot of the words. Pining. Wishful thinking.

Newton looked up and gaped like a fucking fish.

Then Hermann was there, on him, their lips pressing together. Hermann’s weight draped on Newt and he took it easily, wrapping his arms around Hermann’s waist to help support him. They pulled back breathless, looked at each other for a heartbeat and then Hermann scowled. 

“You’re rather dim, Newton, to think I had hated you.”

Newton scoffed. “And what about you? You didn’t seem to think I was rather fond of you.”

“Of course I didn’t with the way you behaved!” Hermann grabbed his shoulders and pushed Newt back so that they were looking each other more easily in the eye. “You’re an absolute menace to science and to myself.” He grabbed Newt’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss again.

Then Newt pulled back. “ _ I’m _ a menace? The way you glowered at me made me feel like I should set my science and myself on fire!” He twisted Hermann around, pushing him down onto the bed and crouching over him.

Hermann fisted a hand in Newt’s hair, pulling his neck to his mouth. Hermann bit him. “You  _ should  _ set those disgusting kaiju pieces on fire, Newt.”

“Newt?” He pulled back and looked at Hermann. “It’s Doctor Geiszler, thank you.”

“Shut. Up. And kiss me, Newton Geiszler.”

So he did. Lying on top of all the letters that he’d never sent.


End file.
